


I'm Glad It's Your Birthday, Happy Birthday To You.

by MsJackofAllFandoms



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti-Tory Bias, Birthday, Brian May/Anita Dobson - Freeform, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gratuitous description of fried food, M/M, Men Crying, Mourning, Multi, Open Relationships, Rated for swearing, Roger Taylor/Sarina Taylor, Roger gets completely spoiled for his birthday, Talk of Freddie, lush products, old Maylor, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJackofAllFandoms/pseuds/MsJackofAllFandoms
Summary: It's Roger's Birthday! Brian has quarantined himself for two whole weeks in Roger's nanny suite (servants quarters!) in order to spend the day with him. But getting older isn't easy, especially when not all of our loved ones can be there to celebrate it with us. Following Brian's health scare, Brian just wants to spoil Roger, and Roger has no choice but to let him.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	I'm Glad It's Your Birthday, Happy Birthday To You.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this the day before his birthday, when I got hacked off editing my other fic, and thought this was going to be a short piece. Oh no no no. This fic ran away from me. By about 8000 words. 
> 
> So, this is dedicated to Roger Taylor, and his birthday, and his love for Freddie, and also Brian's love for the both of them.
> 
> Two things:-  
> Any mention of John Deacon is based on the fan theory that they are in touch with him, but he is no longer capable of dealing with the general public, so they deny vehemently they're in contact with him to keep him out of the public eye. The stronger the denial, the more they're protecting him, but in this fic there's allusions to him "getting better" after a bad bout. This is not intended to be disrespectful to him, but if you feel that way, feel free to give this fic a miss. 
> 
> A nanny suite is a self contained room or small flat on the ground floor of a house which, unlike a granny flat, is connected to the main house by a door or a hallway. It has it's own entrance and exits. Sometimes they're refurbished utility rooms or kitchens, depending on the age of the building, and sometimes they were servants quarters or governess rooms. And a granny flat, for the record, is a completely seperate cottage-like building, usually at the far side of a garden.

When Roger woke up, uncomfortably aware of his birthday and trying to ignore it, he didn’t automatically notice there was activity going on elsewhere in the house. That was the nice thing about living in a mansion with soundproofing, Roger regularly thought, the noise didn’t bleed from room to room. So it wasn’t until he was in the hallway that he heard the faint sizzling of something frying, and registered the delicious smell of a fry up being made.

He stepped into the kitchen to see Brian, wearing sleep rumpled blue tartan pyjama bottoms and a large ratty Tshirt that Roger is sure he himself used to own way back when. Roger couldn’t help the little noise of surprise from escaping his throat. Brian turned around and greeted him with a smile.

“Hey! Morning.”

He stepped further into the kitchen and went to the coffee machine. “Brian. Hey. What are you doing up already?”

Brian nodded to the busy frying pan on the job, still smiling brightly at him. “I’m making you breakfast!”

Roger smiled back, and walked over to him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s your birthday.” Brian shrugged. 

Roger sighed, not particularly enjoying the reminder. “I know.”

Unperturbed at the tone shift, he nodded to the pan again. “Look, i’ve even done sausages for you. Pork sausages.” 

Roger huffed out a laugh. “Be still my beating heart.” His own face dropped immediately. “Oh shit, no I shouldn’t say things like that.”

Brian nudged into him sideways. “It’s fine.” When Roger didn’t smile again, he nudged him again, “Come on, I know what you meant. I was the first person to make a joke about my heart attack, remember?”

Roger retreated back to the coffee machine, to watch the timer go down. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t.” He didn’t mean to snap, but it came out short anyway. 

“Rog?”

Roger waved him off. “Ignore me.” He sighed again, the three minutes seemed to be going down slower than usual. “You know me, not too fond of birthdays these days.”

“Hmm,” Brian replied, “Welcome to my side of 70.”

That did make Roger huff out a laugh. “Thanks.” 

Once properly sat at the table, ready for the full english breakfast, mostly grilled besides the sausages, because Brian had clearly not wanted that argument revisited again, and the egg, because you can’t do a fried egg in the oven, Brian came over with two plates and put one by his own seat and then placed Roger’s plate in front of him. He gave him a peck on the cheek as he leant over. “Happy Birthday, love.”

“Thank you. You really didn’t need to do this.”

The food on his plate looked so good, with a golden fried egg at the top of the middle, two sausages in the middle, with bacon on the bottom of the middle, tinned tomato on the right, a small heap of beans on the left and two slices of toast on the side. It was a feast for a king… Or, well, Queen, his mind corrected. Brian’s plate full was a bit less, and no doubt a bit healthier. He had vegan sausages in the centre of the plate, and they were surrounded by the beans on one side, the tinned tomatoes on the other, and toast slices at the top of the plate. 

Brian sat down at Roger’s side, back to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the table unused. “I wanted to. Why else would I travel all this way?”

“I did wonder if it was to recruit me into your vegan ways, but…” he replied, smiling cheekily as he cut up the juicy sausage, much to Brian’s badly hidden disgust. 

“You should, you know, it’s healthier.” Brian said, cutting up his own vegan version of sausage on his own plate, “But… maybe one day.”

“Not bloody likely.” Roger replied, before he’d swallowed his mouthful of food.

Brian looked away, “Oh Rog, really.” This time he was not trying to hide his disgust.

“Sorry.” He wasn’t, he was too amused, but he did swallow the food at least. It was the polite thing to do. 

Brian tutted. “71 years old and you’ve still got manners of a street urchin.”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Brian looked at him, his eyes soft with fondness and hand twitching to reach out. “No. No I wouldn’t.”

Roger suddenly felt oddly warm in the face and went back to the plate of food in front of him. The only noise in the kitchen for the rest of the breakfast was the sound of cutlery scraping against the plate. 

When Roger’s plate was cleared of all the lovely food, and so too was Brian’s, he placed his knife and fork down, to prove he did actually have manners! And turned to Brian. “Thank you. Especially for all the meat, I know that mustn’t have been very nice for you.”

Brian shrugged. “Just don’t tell Paul. Or anyone on instagram.” Brian gathered the plates and ignored Roger’s protests, taking them over to the sink. “Nobody can know I facilitate your meat eating ways.”

Roger smiled cheekily, tongue poking out from between his teeth. “You do what?” 

Brian looked at him, about to repeat himself in earnest and then caught his look, and rolled his eyes instead. “You’re not 71 today, you’re fucking _twelve_.” 

Roger stood up and groaned. “I wish!”

They puttered around each other for a little while, with Brian looking around the rooms and at the shelves he hasn’t seen in person for over six months, until Roger decided it was time he got washed and dressed for the day. Given the circumstances of a deadly virus still raging on outside, and not having major plans for his birthday, he opted for one of his comfortable band logo t-shirts and navy blue shorts. Even if he did have major plans for them, even if the virus wasn’t still controlling most aspects of his life, it was far too hot to wear anything fancy either. 

He went back downstairs into the living room to see Brian sitting there on the couch, in a fresh short sleeved shirt and knee length shorts. He was greeted with another bright smile when Brian spotted entering the room. 

“Come on,” Brian waved him over eagerly, “I think it’s time for your first present.”

Roger nodded and then Brian’s wording caught up with him. “My _first_ present!? How many did you get me?”

Brian smiled mischievously at me. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Brian waited for Roger to be sat down next to him before he handed over a small wrapped parcel, about the size of his palm. The wrapping paper, Roger took special care to notice, was actually recyclable brown parcel paper, with a little drum kit drawn on it, and even a little stick man with his arms in the air behind. 

“If the clue is on the paper, I’m afraid to say I’m a bit too big to play this kit.”

Brian takes the comment in his good humour. “That’s just what I could think to draw at the time. Go on, open it.”

“Okay.” He set it to it, with more care than he usually would because of the size of the gift. He’d hate to drop it and break it before he even got to see it. 

The removal of the brown doodled on paper revealed a small plain white box. Roger pulled out the lip of that box to find a smaller black box inside it. He looked at Brian, torn between being exasperated at the packaging and curious and what could possibly be this small, yet need this much packaging. Roger also noted that it was too long and narrow to be a ring box but was still most likely to be a fancy gift, instead of a light hearted gag gift they sometimes liked to get each other. 

He opened the small black box, which is styled like a jewellery box with a hinge at the top, to find a small golden plate, no bigger than 3 inches, with a release button at the side. Even more curious, he managed to press the fiddly button down. It opened up like a tiny book to reveal a double sided photo frame. He gasped as he saw that on the left side was a photo of Roger and Brian from their Smile days, so young and so beautiful, and on the right was a photo of Roger and Brian more recently. The difference was startling, and yet, he could still see the same young faces inside their older ones.

His thumb brushed against an engraving on the bottom of the frame and he looked closely to see what it said. It was the word _Forever,_ in a lovely italic script font, and it was spread across the two sides of the small golden frame. 

“If you pull at the knobbly bit at the bottom of the hinge, it releases a small kick stand to stand it up.” Brian said, voice quiet, close to murmuring, over his shoulder. “If you want to stand it up, that is.” 

Roger felt for said small knobbly bit at the bottom of the hinge, and, once found, carefully pressed on it. Sure enough, a small kick stand came out. Roger immediately knew where he wanted to stand it up. Unbelievably, that wasn’t the end of the surprises on this little palm sized gift. He felt another engraving, this time on the back side of the right photo. He turned it over carefully in his hand. This one said “Happy Birthday, My Dearest Friend.”, the same font as the other engraving, but centralised. 

It was lovely. 

“Oh Brian.” 

“That’s just two photos I put in there.” Brian said, his old self doubt coming through. “You can take them out if you’d rather. If you don’t want to raise suspicion. I don’t mind.”

Roger shook his head. He couldn’t bear the thought, it was perfect as it was “No. No I… I love it as it is Brian.” He looked at the other man, sitting so close to him, and gave him a warm peck on his lips. “Thank you.”

Brian kissed him back before moving away, smiling warmly at him. “You’re welcome. Is the engraving okay? I… I wanted to give you wiggle room, if anyone asked.”

Roger nodded and looked back at the frame in his hands. “It’s lovely. And it’s no less true. We are friends, as well as more.”

“Happy Birthday. Again.”

Roger kept the frame in his hands as he sat back against the couch, looking at the difference between the photos. “Thank you.” He eventually said again, distractedly brushing his thumb over the engraving on the front. “I feel a bit rubbish about my gifts to you now.”

Brian scoffed and snuggled into him, putting his arm around Roger’s shoulders. “Don’t be silly, I love the [ blanket ](https://www.etsy.com/listing/585191285/zodiac-fabric-zodiac-constellations-in) and the [ hedgehog mug ](https://www.kitchenstuffplus.com/boston-warehouse-flea-market-shaped-hedgehog-ceramic-mug-multi-colour) ; And as soon as I get home, I’ll put the [ six pence ](https://www.allcoinvalues.com/united-kingdom/1947-uk-sixpence-value2c-george-vi.html) on my little trinket shelf by Freddie’s picture and Deaky’s diecast rickenbacker. Pride of place, Rog. Highest honour.”

Roger hummed in place and stared at the photo frame some more, before getting up to put it exactly where he knew it belonged.

In his office, there was a shelf of photographs, all framed. Some of him and his parents, some of him and other friends through the years, him and Freddie - so many of him and Freddie, a couple of him and John, and a couple of him and Brian. And now this one. There was no real order, but he put it in-between a photograph of him with his parents when he was a teenager, and a photograph of him and Freddie in their stall managing days. At the front, so it wasn’t hidden. Hardly anyone ever came here socially, sometimes it was where he did interviews from, but even if somehow it did get spotted in the background. It didn’t matter, not to him. The photograph nor the frame was incriminating by itself, it could simply mean Forever as friends. 

He kissed his hand and gently patted the new addition to the family, then repeated the process with the one with his parents and the one with Freddie, before joining Brian back in the living room.

“What would you like to do now?” the other man asked as he sat back down, back into each other’s space again. 

Roger did want to get on his new drum kit, but he wanted to just enjoy Brian’s company as is for a bit longer more. “Just sit for a bit. We can go down to the music room soon but for now, I just want to sit.”

“You okay?” Brian asked, looking down at him slightly

Roger nodded. “Yeah.”

Then he did something he hardly ever did, not of his own volition. He grasped Brian’s hand, just to hold it. He felt oddly relieved, and pleased, when Brian held tightly back, then brought his other hand to hold Roger’s hand between both of his. 

The music room was cool, but playing drums was still hard, sweaty work. Opposite him, Brian was sat perched on a stool, one of Roger’s many guitars propped up beside him as he recorded him on his phone for personal posterity; The guitar was a honey brown electric he’d had for almost as long as he’d known Brian. 

“It’s a shame I can’t post this.”

Roger paused his drumming, “I know.”

Roger watched out the corner of his eye as he went back to drumming. Brian had his thinking face on. “I could record you on your phone and you could upload it, say Sarina recorded it if you want.” 

Roger shook his head. “Nah. I just want to enjoy playing. If we post anything, you never know, a reflection might show up on something and give the whole game away.”

“True.”

Roger gave a big finish to the song he was drumming, and then looked at Brian. “Stone cold crazy?” He had been waiting for the right moment to play some of their older songs on this classic drum kit. 

It was apparently not the right moment, as Brian shook his head and looked apologetic. “Might have to sit that one out…” 

Right. That was a very energetic song, and Brian was still not 100% after his heart attack. “Oh.” He tried not to let his disappointment show. He could play that anytime, by himself, jamming with Brian any means necessary was more important. They hadn’t been able to play music together in far too long. “Oh fuck that.”

“I don’t mind.” 

Brian, ever the self-sacrificing lamb.

“No…” Roger thought through their catalogue of music, which had a good drum beat he would enjoy hearing on the new kit, but not too taxing for Brian. “Crazy Little Thing called Love?”

Brian grinned, and god, his face lit up. Roger had missed that so much. “That one I _can_ do.” 

They worked through a few more of their own songs, still giving the drum kit a good going, but still nothing too much for Brian to keep up with, before having to stop for lunch. 

Roger managed to get Brian to stay seated as he made sandwiches for both of them, this time. Brian still protested, claiming that since he was the birthday boy, Roger should be the one sitting down having food made for him, but Roger kept reminding him of the medical advice he was given. Get back to normal, but rest when needed, and after a session in the music room like they’d just had, Brian must surely need to rest. 

The sandwiches, which needed to accommodate both Brian’s veganism and his belief he must always hover when Roger is the one making food in the kitchen, consisted of a chickpea spread from the supermarket with lettuce, cucumber, and sliced red onion, topped with a sprinkle of vinaigrette salad dressing Sarina had with everything and swore was healthy. 

They didn’t look too bad, if he said so himself! Much better than his usual ham sandwiches he threw together whenever Sarina was out. He put both sandwiches on one plate, grabbed the cups of tea, and took them over to the bench by the porch. It gave them a good view of the garden, with just enough of Freddie’s statue visible to know all 20 feet of him are still out there.

They ate and chatted idly, and Roger tried not to go off on a rant about the state of the world at the minute. If there was someone that understood his frustration, it was surely Brian. At least the sandwiches were as nice as they looked, not that Roger had any doubt but, it was _vegan_. 

After the plates were cleared and the tea was finished, and everything was hand washed at the sink, by Roger, Brian stood up “Are you ready for your next present, love?”

Roger groaned as he dried his hands with a tea towel. “Brian, why have you got me another present? You know… you being here, that’s enough. You do know that…?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders. “We haven’t seen each other properly in about six months. I wanted to spoil you.”

Roger barked out a laugh. “Brian, a rich rock star that lives in a mansion, and I have five children, I’m spoiled enough.”

Brian waved off his words, quite literally. “That’s different. _I_ want to spoil you.”

Well, Roger thought, what could he say to that?

“Look,” Brian continued, “If you open it and you don’t want it, that’s fine. But at least let me get it so you can open it and see what it is?”

Roger found himself reluctantly agreeing. Goddamn that man and his _voice_ and his _face_.

Brian turned to leave the kitchen, to go to the self contained flat attached to the back of the mansion that used to be a seperate laundry room way back in the building’s early days, but he stopped and came over to Roger, and rested his hand on Roger’s shoulder. “I know you don’t really like your birthday, love, but…” he paused, evidently to think his words through. “Well, it matters to me, this year, okay? Things could have worked out very differently.”

Roger brought up his own hand to rest on top of Brian’s, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t remind me.”

They smiled sadly at each other, then Roger let his own hand drop. 

“Back in a second. Meet me in the sitting room.” Brian said, and then left the kitchen.

“That’s a big box.” 

Brian was holding a box that was bigger than a shoe box, certainly deeper than a shoe box, in both of his hands. It didn’t look too heavy, however.. Roger had no idea what could possibly be inside. 

“I hope you like it.” Brian said, quietly. 

Roger silently took the box off Brian as he was passed it, unable to shake the questioning look off his face, and noted this time the brown parcel paper had Roger’s own song lyrics written across it. Lyrics from Modern Times Rock n Roll, Tenement Funster, Drowse, Radio Gaga, even Man on Fire, Good Times Are Now, and Old Friend. He unwrapped the box, carefully, because this sheet wasn’t being reduced to scraps to go in the bin, he was going to keep it somewhere safe; and then he lifted the lid, where he found a load of tissue paper protecting whatever was inside, and obscuring it from view. He took time and care to deal with the tissue paper, when slowly but surely two very distinct familiar shaped objects were visible through the remaining layers of tissue paper. 

“What…?”

Delicacy went out the window as he ripped through the last couple of layers. He felt his heart do a few funny things as his head shot up to look at Brian. 

“No... Are these?”

He stroked them. They looked the same, they _felt_ the same. Brian sat down on the couch opposite him and smiled tentatively at him. 

“Someone got in touch with me…” Brian started.

“Are they really?” He asked, his voice came out softly, but full of emotion. He cleared his throat.

“It’s a bit hard to get them authenticated, but I checked with Maureen about the dates, and the guy had the right ticket, and they are the right make and model.” 

Roger looked between Brian as he spoke and the maracas inside the box. They looked untouched, like they’d been frozen in time, whilst everyone who had ever held them had aged. 

“Norman got in touch with the forum archive crowd,” Brian continued, “And from their photos and what the bloke said, from where he was standing and how Freddie threw them, it adds up. It would be very weird if it _wasn't_ them.”

He took one of them out of the box, as gently as one might with a baby, or a bomb, “Oh my god. I never thought I’d ever see them again. And they were together?” He asked, not believing what his eyes were showing him.

“Yeah.” Brian said, nodding and smiling, “The bloke who had them, he just thought they were Queen memorabilia, never really thought much about them, but kept them in a box with the ticket and leaflet in his attic. One he caught because it was heading right over his head, and the other one to his left, he caught it saving another fan’s face. She let him keep it as a thank you.”

“Oh…” HIs eyes started prickling, at the memories of stealing them, at them all fawning over them backstage, Roger not letting any of them go near them until they were on stage, at Freddie… “Oh Brian. Thank you.” He choked on a sob, and tried to blink the tears away before they fell. God, the memories were crushing him.

Brian was up and out of his seat as soon as the tears started to overspill. “Oh no don’t. Oh Roger."

He put the maraca down back into the box and wiped furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m alright. God I just…” He breathed in, swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I just miss him so fucking much, you know.”

The floodgate well and truly opened, and it seemed the wave of sadness he’d been trying to stave off since the night before had won out. He felt the box be removed from his lap and arms come around him and pull him into a side hug. He shifted to be more comfortable. God, he hated crying. 

Brian started murmuring nonsense in his ear, trying to comfort him. It helped just a bit. 

“It’s been too fucking long.” He said, through tears and a snotty, stuffy nose. Christ he was worse than a child.

“I know.”

“I hate getting older and every year he’s not here.” 

Brian stroked his arm comfortingly, “I know, love.”

“...And then you had the _heart attack_.” A wave of fresh pain, fresh sadness, overwhelmed him. 

Brian’s hug tightened, “I know. But I _am_ still here.”

“Yeah.” He nodded against Brian’s shoulder, “I just wish he was too. And Deacy, I know he’s not… I know. I just wish-”

“I know. But at least he’s getting better again.” Brian’s voice became thick too and Roger shifted so he could hug Brian properly back. He stopped trying to hold back the tears and just let them fall until he calmed down. 

When he could breathe easily again, he wiped his face with the material of his t-shirt from his shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m alright, now. Christ.”

Brian held on to him for a few more seconds before shifting away. He waited a few more moments before standing up. Roger watched on as he lifted the box up. 

“I’ll put these away. I’ll keep ahold-”

Roger shook his head. “No. No- I…” He breathed in to calm himself, and looked at Brian. “Thank you, Bri, so much. They are beautiful, just like-.” _like they were when i stole them._

Brian nodded. “They are. But I don’t want them to upset you-” 

“They don’t. It’s just…” He thought thorough his next words carefully, and put his hands over Brian’s where he held the box. “They’re just connected to Freddie as well, and I wish he could see them too… I’ll put them on his shelf.” The thought of going by Freddie’s shelf hurt, he couldn’t face it just yet. “Later,” he added. 

Brian put the box down slowly, with a lot of care. “Whatever you want, love.”

Roger nodded. “Yeah. Just… Put the lid back on?”

“Of course,” Brian said, and then put the lid back on the box. He sat back down next Roger and put his arm around him. “I’m sorry.” Brian said again. 

Roger shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I ruined a very nice birthday present.”

“You didn’t, and you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. In fact I think you needed that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Roger said thoughtfully, “Probably.”

They sat in companionable silence. It was the first time all morning Roger noticed he hadn’t yet put the radio on. He stayed seated, soaking up the comfort and warmth from Brian’s presence.

Late mid-afternoon, the phone rang, pulling them both out of their relative peace and quiet and from snuggling on the couch. Not that Roger would call it snuggling. Not out loud, anyway.

“I better answer that, it might one be the kids.”

“Okay.” Brian said, light and cheery, and completely sincere. They both loved to know each of their kids were still getting in touch despite living their own lives. 

Upon answering, Roger was serenaded to a rather jaunty version of the birthday song, sung by his eldest daughter, Rory. He’d tried to cut her off, kindly with appropriate compliments and thanks, but she powered through, and then gave another verse for good luck. His daughter was beautiful, kind and smart, but nobody could say she could hold a note. 

They talked for a bit in general, before she steered the conversation to be back around his birthday.

“It should arrive tomorrow, or the day after.” She promised.

“That’s alright, love, it’ll turn up when it turns up. And as soon it does, I’ll give you a ring.”

“I’m in work tomorrow, so you might not get through, but if you can’t get through, just text me and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

He nodded despite being on the phone. “Alright love.”

“What have you done so far this morning then?”

“Oh just doing music with your uncle Brian.” 

“Did he get you a nice present? I mean, besides himself.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Your uncle Brian was _n_ _ot_ a present.”

“I don’t know…” She said, in a very characteristic Taylor teasing way, “If _my_ boyfriend turned up after quarantining himself in his own house for 2 weeks, drove through _London traffic_ to the arse end of Guildford, then quarantined himself in the _servant’s quarters-_ ” 

“Nanny suite.” He interjected, but as always she barrelled on as if she hadn’t been corrected.

“-for another 2 weeks _just_ to spend my birthday with me, then i’d consider _him_ a present.”

“You’ve always been a sweet, romantic one. Rory, but I’m far too old and cynical for that. Also I hope you’re alone there, throwing the word boyfriend around like that.”

“ _Yes_ , _Dad_ , of course I am. Did he get you something nice, then?”  
  
His chest panged at the thought of the maracas, but he quickly thought of the lovely little golden photo frame now sitting in his office. “He did. You can see them when you come over.”

“Might have to just show me on video the way this is going.”

Roger grinned. “You mean, you, my own daughter, my _eldest_ daughter, wouldn’t quarantine yourself for two whole weeks, come stay in the Nanny suite for two-”

“Servant quarters!” Rory interjected.

“ _Nanny Suite._ For two whole weeks. You mean you wouldn’t do all that just to see your dear old dad? Just to see me? For my birthday?”

Rory laughed, “Uncle Brian must love you more than I do.”

Roger gasped over dramatically “ _Well!_ if that’s the way you want to speak to me, on my _Birthday!”_ He playfully yelled, hamming it up as if he was taking cues from Christopher Biggins.

“I’m kidding!” Shouted Rory, laughing, and god wasn’t that a beautiful sound. “I’m kidding! Of course I love you, Dad.”

“I know you do, sweetheart, I love you too..” He said, sobering up.

“You know it’s just because I don’t want to risk anything and I can’t get the time off right now, and I never know what I’m going to expect at work.”

“I do know, I know all of that, sweetheart. I’m very proud of you for working through all this. When it’s safer, you know I want you to stay as long as you can.”

Rustling on the phone revealed that she’d at least picked up Roger’s habit of nodding at people on the phone. He found it endearing in her. “I know. I look forward to it. I just wish- Ignore what the government says, Dad. Just because they’re telling you to go out, doesn’t mean the virus has gone away.”

“I know.”  
  
“Okay… Well… I’ll let you get back to Uncle Brian.”

“Oh thank you.” He said, flatly. 

“Yeah… Don’t want him slinking off and sulking in the servant quarters.”

“It’s a _Nanny suite_!”

Rory laughed again. “Love you, Dad. Stay safe!”

“You too, sweetheart. Bye”

“Bye byebyebye bye bye… bye!” 

Roger waited for her side to click off before putting down his phone on to the base, and then walked back into the living room. He was pleased to hear the radio had been turned on, though the adverts would no doubt get annoying quickly.

“Fair warning,” He said, as he sat down next to Brian on the couch, “Next time Rory comes around, expect comments.”

Brian looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. “What sort of comments?”

Roger rolled his eyes. “About how wonderful you are to survive the Nanny suite for two whole weeks, I assume.”

Brian laughed, “I think I’ll survive those comments.”

Roger had another session in the music room, alone this time as Brian prepared a surprise dinner that Roger was not allowed to see until it was ready to be eaten. This was broken up by four more phone calls from each of his other children, and a phone call from his ex Debbie checking up on him, making sure he had absolutely no plans to do something stupid just because he missed his children, and then it was well into the afternoon when Brian called down for him. 

He gasped, his mouth was wide open in pleasant surprise as he saw his kitchen. The dining table had a tablecloth over it and on top of the table cloth was a spread of his favourite japanese dishes. There was also a small tea pot in the middle, in lieu of a more traditional sake wine, but as Brian couldn’t currently drink alcohol, Roger had declared he would abstain for the whole time they were in each other’s company. 

It looked like Brian had listened and taken him at his word. Oh well.

“Bloody hell, Brian, when did you become a michelin star chef!?”

Brian scoffed, “Let’s see what it all tastes like, first.”

Roger took his seat and took in each dish closely. “This looks amazing. Seriously, how… And you’re having some?”

Brian nodded and pointed to the plates of food on the table. “Green plates are completely vegan, the orange are animal products. Again, do not tell Paul.”

Roger held a closed fist to his chest with a grin. “Sacrificing your vegan points for me, you must really love me.”

Brian, much like this morning, did not join in with the pantomime, and instead replied in earnest. “I do.”.   
  


Roger cleared his throat and took in all of the food again. Worry and guilt climbed up from the pit of his stomach. “Brain, you should still be taking it easy, you know, not making all of this for me.”

“I _was_ taking it easy.” Brian said dismissively, “I put some things in the oven, some things in the pressure cooker, and I sat down and made the rest. It was very therapeutic.”

Roger took in the variety in front of him, and whilst he could believe that Brian would find sushi rolling and slicing up whatever meat or fake meat there was, he couldn't quite believe it was completely stress free.

“I promise love.” Brian said, taking his hand in his, “I’m still not fit as a fiddle, but I’m not too far off, now.”

Knowing he couldn't argue further, he just had to nod and accept it. “Okay.”

“Dig in.”

He filled his plate from all that was available, the spread in front of him reminding him of many times during his childhood he had or attended parties with buffets. This wasn’t so different, just japanese. He noticed Brian stuck to his green plates. As if knowing he was being thought about, he turned to look at Roger and with a happy, crinkly smile, he kissed him on the cheek yet again. Roger had missed it, these little every day things so much, so he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t like it.

“Happy Birthday, love.”

Roger pecked him on the lips in return, then stood up to pour the tea. He thought for a few seconds, and then got up and got another cup from the cupboards. He poured a third cup out and placed it on his other side, opposite Brian. 

“And one for Freddie.”

Brian raised his own tea cup to it, “And Freddie.”

“Cheers.” Roger said, clinking his cup against Brian’s.

“Cheers.”  
  


It was like the food disappeared in front of his eyes. Soon there were only morsels leftover on some of the plates. How Brian did it all, and make it taste good, he’ll never know, unless the man spills his secrets. It was all so lovely, so perfect. When did Brian learn to make all of it!? 

And again, as a trade off, Roger dealt with the plates seeing as Brian had slaved away. Leftovers went in a plastic storage box, and the plates went into the dishwasher. Sorted! Or it would be when it put it on, but he’d save that for before bed, so that he didn’t have to wash any more cups by hand from any more drinks they may have that night. And just as he was about to ask if he wanted to go into the living room, or go outside and enjoy the nice mild summer’s night, Brian spoke instead.

“Would you like your third present?” He asked, hesitantly, “It’s okay if you don’t. After… after earlier.”

Roger shook his head. “No, you’ve gone through all this trouble, I might as well see what it is.”

Brian stood up, but didn’t go to move anywhere. “It’s a bit light hearted, but the one after the next one is-” 

“The what- You got me five presents!?” He was touched at the thoughtfulness, but- “Fucking hell, Brian. I’m not a child-”

“Seven, actually.” Brian corrected him.

“WHAT?”

Brian shrugged. “One for each decade you’ve been alive.”

Well, that took the wind out of Roger’s angry sails. That was so fucking sweet. “Oh fucking hell… you really did go all out, didn’t you? How did you even have any room in your suitcase for clothes?”

“I managed.” Brian replied, shrugging.

Roger looked at him closely. “You left your underwear out and have been going commando all this time?”

“No,” Brian said, rolling his eyes, “I just didn’t bring that many clothes with me, and I re-wore some clothes, washed them, and kept my nicest for the next few days.”

Roger scoffed, “Leaving the underwear would have helped too.”

Brian hummed in response. “Yes, I’m sure it would have.”

Brian went to the fridge and pulled out a cake.

“That’s cake!” It had pale yellow royal icing, topped with dripped chocolate with a ring of raspberries around the side, with a plastic topper he couldn’t quite make out yet

Brian smiled and nodded. “It is, but look at the topper.” He took it over to the dining table, and placed it down gently. Roger followed him and did as he asked.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “How…? That’s almost an exact replica.”

Brian, the man of mystery, shrugged. “Yeah.”

Roger looked between Brian and the topper, and Brian again. “A lego replica of my drum kit?”

Brian nodded and then grinned. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, “But they’re bringing out a whole set for Christmas.”

Roger gasped. “No! A whole Queen lego set?”

“Yes.” Brian nodded, as if that wasn’t a big deal. “They were going to release it in time for the 50th anniversary but of course, the virus.”

Roger couldn’t stop looking between the lego cake topper in the shape of his own drum kit, and Brian. “How do you know this?

Brian wobbled his head, as if figuring out his wording. “Well. I’ve been speaking to the treasurer.” He eventually said.

“The treasurer of Lego!?”

“… No…” Brian replied, looking Roger meaningfully, with a full on side eye, waiting for him to figure it out.

Roger gasped again. “Deaky. Fuck me, you spoke to John.”

Brian laughed, either at his level of surprise or the wording, Roger wasn’t sure. “Miami called me last November, said nothing might come of it, but lego fans have been talking in the forum about putting in for a Queen set on the creative forum, where they make their own designs and the biggest votes get put through to be made. Like the-”

“Beatles Yellow Submarine set.”

“Yeah.” Brian nodded again, “He said he’d been in touch with Deaky and it all sounded like a good idea.”

Roger sat down on the dining table chair in front of where Brian had placed the, not his usual place at the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Brian followed suit and sat down too, next to him, but unlike Roger his seat was the usual place he sat at Roger’s dining table whenever he was there. “Well. We wanted it to be a surprise. It was your drum kit they were all trying to work out together on the forum, so it was looking like you’d be the big favourite.” Roger watched on as Brian explained and removed the cake topper at the same time, carefully putting it over to the side, in front of where Roger did normally sit. “But time went on and we didn’t hear anything back and then, the virus. Then, 3 weeks ago, when Deaky got in touch.”

“Deaky.” Roger repeated softly. They didn’t talk much these days, but as Brian had said earlier, the former bassist was getting better. And that’s all Roger could ask for, really.

Brian then cut the cake into half, then cut the left half into half, and then half again, and then half again until there were two appropriate slices for them both to eat, talking all the time he did so. “He said he was really sorry, there was all sorts of problems with the charity donations that he’d had to work through but it was all sorted now.”

“How… How did he sound?”

“Exhausted, but managing. Anyway, it’s all going through now, and this,” he picked up the drum kit and held it up, “is the prototype.”

Roger took it off him to look at closely. All the little parts connected together were amazing. They made him feel giddy. “Fuck me.”

“Not before your next present. Not before cake!” Brian went over and got two more plates, and two forks, and slid the smallest slices onto each of the other two plates.

Roger eagerly dug in, and then a thought came to him. He inspected the mouthful of cake currently on his fork, waiting to be eaten. “Has this been in your bag for the whole two weeks you’ve been here?”

Brian laughed as if he’d said something ridiculous. “No. Sarina ordered it in, it arrived at my door this morning.”

“I love it when you two work together.” He knew what he was doing when he stuck the cake in his mouth. 

Brian spoke over any implied innuendo, as if he hadn’t written half the songs he’d written in his younger days. “It’s a vanilla sponge, with raspberry filling, and chocolate icing on top. Best part, it’s all vegan so I can eat it with you.”

“How selfless of you, making sure I don’t have to eat it all by myself.”

“Only thinking of you love.”

They looked at each other for a beat, and he realised he could not love this man in front of him any more than he already did. (That might have been the cake talking, because _God_ , it was delicious.)

They chatted idly again over the cake. They broached and skittered around the topic of Deaky, but established that Roger would get a phone call sometime in the near future, then they steered away again. They decided to spend the rest of the night in front of the television. It was going on eight o’clock, and they were two old men far too sensible to risk a journey down the pub in the middle of an active pandemic. 

Roger this time took them into the littler living room that had been classed as The Den, because although it was warmer to sit there in winter, in summer, it offered a lovely view of the sky when it turned to dusk. Brian hovered at the doorway. “Ready for your next present?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Brian must have stored the next present somewhere near, because he didn’t go all the way to the nanny suite to get it. He came back, relatively quickly, leaving Roger to suspect Brian had made good use of the barely used downstairs airing cupboard near the utility cupboard, and in his hands he held an oblong package and, as soon as he was close enough, passed it to Roger.

The first thing Roger noticed whilst holding it, was that it was heavy. Not too heavy to hold it, but it was certainly the heaviest gift he’d received so far. Roger then noticed the brown parcel paper on this package was decorated with balloons, drawn on and coloured in multiple colours. Roger took off the wrapping, not being so careful this time, and found he was looking at a solid plexiglass plate. Eventually taking in what is actually encased in the plexiglass plate makes him nearly drop the whole thing. 

It is a postcard-size poster card of A Clockwork Orange, signed by Kubrick. One of the ones that were put up for sale in the 90s, and you had to be successful in a lottery to even get a chance at bidding in the auction. Roger had not been so lucky.

“Brian!” Roger shouts, hands gripping the plate, “Is this-” He turned it around to see if there was a number on the back. There was. In the same blue ink that Stanley Kubrick had signed his name with, was the number 71. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “HOW?” 

Brian just shrugged, smiling smugly. “That would be telling.”

Roger turned it back over so that he could look at the signature again. ““There were only ever 100 of them!”

“I know.”

“Bri!”

Brain laughed. “Do you like it?”

Roger looked at him unbelievable. Did he like it? Did he LIKE it? “I love it! You know, that was the one thing my money couldn’t buy back then!”

Brian nodded. “I know. Well, nobody wanted to sell theirs, until recently.”

Torn between brushing his hands over the plexiglass plate, as if he’d be able to feel some sort of texture from the card inside, and not even putting his hands near it lest he taint it in some way, he held it in his hands. “How did you get it _now_ ?” 

“I’ve had it for a while, actually, Rog.” Brian said, and then elaborated upon seeing Roger’s furthering shock and surprise. “There was a handful being sold and I had a choice of a few numbers. I thought the 71 would be perfect for your birthday.”

Roger nodded. “It is perfect. You’re perfect.” He carefully held the plate as he kissed Brian properly. Brian smiled through the kiss and then pulled back gently.

“Hardly. Glad you like it though. Now the fifth?”

Speechless, and overwhelmed he just nodded, then picked up the discarded wrapping paper, just to protect the plate for now whilst he figured out where he could put it. He also remembered, as if a voice had whispered to him quietly at the back of his head, he needed to put the maracas on Freddie’s shelf before he goes to bed. 

God what a day.

Brian came back in again, this time with a square canvas boxy tote bag in his hands. 

“God, what’s this going to be, Bri? My lost teddy bear from when I was 5?”

“Alas poor Mr Rupert, but no.”

Brian gave him the bag, which held inside it another bag, upside down. He pulled it up out of the boxy tote bag, and then uprighted it. Unbelievably, he then had to contend with another thick canvas tote bag. But once he’d removed that layer, he was hit with the mesmerising smell that immediately let him know just exactly it was Brian had given him now. “What’s that- Is that apples?”

“It is.”

“You didn’t.”

Brian shrugged, “I think you’ll find I did.”

He opened the box, which revealed another box, but the scent was even stronger now. “Oof.” he said, although he did like it, but it took a few minutes to get used to it.

“No testing on animals, ethical packaging-”

“Sarina’s going to kill you. You know she can’t stand this stuff.” He finally got to the box that actually contained his present, and inside was a nice array of Lush products. Two bath bombs, soap, a shampoo bar, a conditioner bar, a bar of body wash, beard and facial wash, moisturiser, and cologne. Mostly from the apple range, except for conditioner which was Stout and smelt exactly as the name implied, and the cologne which had the label “[ Devil’s Nightcap ](https://uk.lush.com/products/perfume-library/devils-nightcap)”.

“Put them in an airtight container when you’re not using them.”

He inhaled the box deeply, and only slightly regretted it. He coughed out, but nodded and smiled. “This is wonderful. Thank you Bri.”

“Again, you’re very welcome.”

He let Brian have a whiff of all the products inside, as he lifted them out to have a proper look. One of the bath bombs left glitter behind on his hands. He knew exactly which one he’d be trying first, whilst Sarina was away. Then he read all the information about the products, then passed Brian the mini newspaper-style information leaflet about Lush’s latest campaigns, and how they’re working to help everyone in the times of Covid, over to Brian. 

He relaxed back into his chair, taking in the glorious scent taking over the room until it became too much and he’d have to either put them away or put them to good use.

They lasted about half an hour. He didn’t often get excited about having a bath, but it also wasn’t often he got given a big box of Lush products. But before he could settle down to enjoy himself first, he decided it was time to sort out a home for the plexiglass plate, the lego prototype drum kit, and finally, the maracas. The latter was the easiest to do, because he knew they’d be on Freddie’s shelf in the living room, near their records. 

The plexiglass plate was the hardest. He wanted to display it, but the plate design didn’t really allow for it. He also didn’t want to risk it being robbed, should something of that nature happen to his house.

He put it away in his safe in his office until he could talk with Sarina about some sort of new display cabinet for it. The prototype drum kit got put with the funko pops, ducks, little figurines and the pez dispenser on the first landing near Lola’s old room. 

He went back by the Den. “Are you going to join me?”

Brian looked over the back of the armchair he was sitting in. “No, you enjoy them all on your own.”

Roger went further into the den to get a good look at Brian. “Are you sure?”

Brian nodded, but it was a slow movement that set something off inside Roger. “I’m sure.” 

“Are you okay?” He went over, but stopped himself before he could do something over dramatic, like feel Brian’s forehead for a fever or check his pulse for arrhythmia. 

Brian smiled, “I’m a bit tired, admittedly, but I’m okay.” and, Roger looked at Brian and realised, he did look tired. He breathed in slowly to calm himself. The man was not an early riser and never had been, yet he had been up since before Roger woke up at twenty to ten making him breakfast, and hadn’t only had a short rest in the afternoon. 

Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to risk missing anything if anything was seriously wrong. He took hold of Brian’s hands and rubbed them between his own. “Why don’t you at least come into the bathroom with me and sit and talk to me whilst I enjoy my bath?”

“Hmmm… alright.”

Roger felt relieved, and triumphant. 

But if he thought he could sweet talk Brian into sharing a bath with him, and the sparkly bath bomb that turned the water a deep, dark green, he was very wrong. Brian had decided he was quite happy to sit out and let Roger have a relaxing soak in all of the apple scented products by himself, and Roger had no choice but to go along with it. So he focused on enjoying his bath, and kept up a steady conversation as Brian sat over the other side of the bathroom on the toilet seat.

Roger dunked his head under the water to rinse out the conditioner and when he sat back up, Brian was walking over. He watched as the other man sat on the corner of the bath. 

“Hm hello.” he said, leaning over to nudge Brian briefly, enough for a welcome but not so much he’d get the other man’s t-shirt wet. “I thought you were going stay over there the whole time like an awkward teenager.”

“Shut up.” Brian said, shaking his head with a smile. He poked the water and then swooshed his hand around in a circle. “The water’s glittery.”

“Yes.” Roger said ruefully, and then looked around the edge of the tub. The edge of the water was lined with shimmer. “I’ll have to run the bath through a few times before Sarina comes home…” Then he turned to Brian, feeling his face warm and light up as he thought about all the lovely gifts Brian had given him. The fact that he was even there! Maybe Rory had a point. “It’s been… It’s been a lovely day.”

Brian nodded, then hummed. “I am sorry about the maracas-”

Roger cut him off. “They didn’t upset me, love, I’m just…” he swallowed down the lump that tried to form in his throat again. He’d talked about Freddie loads of times without this happening. It was just that kind of day, one he hadn’t had in about a year... “The memories just hit me, that's all, and I just miss him.”

“I know. We all do.” Brian brought his damp hand up to ruffle at Roger’s hair. Normally he’d make a fuss, but this time he soaked up the warmth and comfort. 

“Yeah…” He smiled up at Brian. “He’d be glad you got them back for me.

Brian scoffed. “He’d make fun of me for it. And then complain because I showed him up.”

“He shouldn’t have thrown them into the fucking crowd then.”

Brian grinned and nodded, “It took you _hours_ to steal them.”

Roger laughed, he could hear his own words clearly in his head. “It fucking did as well. That bastard.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s hard, getting older without him.” Roger admitted.

“I know. I felt the same on my birthday.”

Roger leant over the side of the bath to rub Brian's shoulder, wet clothes be damned, the guilt over how Brian spent his birthday the previous week coming back to him. “I’m sorry you were stuck in the Nanny suite on your birthday.”

Brian scoffed again and waved his words away. “Don’t be ridiculous. I had a great time.”

“How!?”

“I was here with you. In a way. And we played scrabble.”

Roger looked at him as he’d grown two heads. “With a complicated set up of cameras and laptops.”

Brian shrugged. “ I had a good time. It wouldn’t have been much different at home with Anita.”

“You’d have had Anita.” He refrained from wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“That’s true.” Brian replied slowly, “But I wouldn't have had the lovely lemon sorbet Sarina got for me.”

Roger laughed through his nose. “It’s from Waitrose, Brian, you can have it anytime you like.”

Brian rolled his eyes at him. “Are you trying to be difficult?”

“Yes.”

“No difference there then, you old age brat.”

On that note, whilst laughing, he pulled the plug up from the bath using the silver lever and watched as the water drained, then got out the bath. Brian, ever the chivalrous type, held on to one arm in case he overbalanced and slipped, until he was steady, with both feet on dry carpet. 

“You’ve called me worse.” Roger replied.

“I have.” 

“I’ve called you worse, too.”

Brian nodded and smiled dryly. “Hm. Yes, I remember.”

With a towel tied around his waist, and another in his left hand as he dried his head and hair, he reached out to hold Brian’s arm and looked him right in the eye. “I don’t say this enough, Bri, but I love you.”

Brian smiled warmly at him. “I love you too.” He replied, and then leaned over to kiss him. Brian's dry lips against his own, not quite chaste but not intended to go further, it was the best kiss they'd shared all day. 

God, Roger thought, he'd been six months without _this_ . How he'd survived, he would never know. And he didn't want to even think about how long he would have to go again once Brian left.

Eventually they pulled apart, and Roger continued getting dressed. Brian left him to putter about, then they met up again in the kitchen. Roger had been contemplating another slice of cake as the kettle boiled.

"Are you ready for your next present?" Brian asked after finishing his cup of tea as they sat at the dining table whilst Roger ate his second slice of cake. Brian, being careful about what he ate, declined a second slice but did nick one of the raspberries that had fallen loose earlier. 

"Oh go on then." Roger said, putting the fork on the empty plate.

Brian shifted in his seat. "I’m going to tell you what it is first, and then that way you can decide if you want to see it or not."

Roger tried not to guess what on earth could be coming next, but he did brace himself for it being anything from a childhood heirloom, an actual live animal, or a one way ticket to a space colony. This day proved that you just never knew with Brian. "Okay."

"And it’s okay if you don’t want it at all." Brian said, quietly but firmly, earnestly. "But I’ve wanted to get you this for a very long time... I was always worried you’d say it was sappy."

Roger scoffed disbelievingly, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Brian, half the things you do are fucking sappy. This whole day is fucking sappy!"

Brian smiled sheepishly. "I know…" he shifted again in his seat, a sign of him being unsure. But then he breathed in and said, clearly, "I bought you a voucher to buy a star."

Roger blinked as he took in what Brian just said. "You did what?"

"It’s legitimate. You can buy a star and-"

"I’ve heard of this." Roger cut him off, not unkindly. He just didn't want a sales pitch. Correction: He didn't want a Brian length sales pitch.

"Right. Well. I didn’t know whether you’d want one near Orion or in the constellation of Leo, that’s why I got you the voucher. You can decide. Unless you don’t want it at all, in which case, no matter."

Roger couldn't believe what he was hearing. Brian had effectively bought him a star, but he didn't know whether to put it somewhere connected to himself and Freddie, or a more individual place like his zodiac constellation. That was so fucking Brian. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

"Oh you fucking-" he broke off as his body decided on _both_. He blinked back the tears, again. "You bought me a star. Now that’s rock and roll."

"I’ve got the paperwork with me if you want to see. But if you don’t, that’s alright too."

"Go get them." Roger replied, grinning, and nodded in the direction of the Nanny suite.

Brian left, and soon came back with a folder. It was like a brochure, explaining the organisation, their aims, their affiliates. It also had maps of the two areas Brian couldn't decide between, with information about how many stars were available in those areas and some of the names of the stars that were available for purchase. On separate sheets, each star named on the maps had accompanied intimation such as best viewing times, best viewing locations, possible age of the stars and guesstimates of how much longer they would last, though Brian contested the accuracy on that.

Roger was sure he decided on the mansion with less information available. 

"And it doesn’t have to be one of these." Brian said, gesturing to the maps. "As long as there’s a star available, you can have it anywhere you'd like... Mercury." Brian offered gently.

His star in Freddie's zodiac constellation. "That’d be nice." Roger said, "Freddie would love that."

"He would."

But it didn't feel quite right to Roger. Freddie might have got a boost over it, whether ego or heartfelt emotion at knowing how much he was really loved, if he'd been signed to see Roger make that choice, but Roger knew the connection between Brian, Freddie and Orion. He'd seen the posts about Freddie's own constellation being seen by fans, which integrated the three precious stars of Orion into the outline of his famous pose. 

If he was to turn into a star in the sky tomorrow, he knew where he'd want to live for the next millennia.

"Orion."

"It’s completely up to you, love."

"I've decided. Orion." He pointed to the orion map. "Think of me when you’re stargazing."

"I already do." Brian said, and then he suddenly stood up and left the table.

"Where are you going?" Roger shouted after him. 

Brian poked his head back into the kitchen. "I’m getting your laptop."

"Er, why?"

Brian looked at him like he'd forgotten his own name. "So we can buy you your star."

"Oh," Roger said, "Alright." 

When Brian had mentioned a voucher, Roger had imagined some plain paper print off sort of thing, or an email, because everything comes in an email these days. But, when he was finally able to look at it properly, he could see how beautifully designed it was. It wasn’t a print out at all, or at least not from Brian’s home computer’s printer. It was a black rectangle, with holographic lines that cut through, and the organisation’s name on the left in silver. On the right was a star, that Roger assumed was meant to be The North Star.

In the middle was a whited out box with a series of numbers and letters printed in normal black ink. That was the code they had to put in to buy the star.

Roger chose the star he wanted, in a good location if he said so himself, then he read out the voucher code whilst Brian typed it out on the screen. The confirmation page loaded and Brian turned to him, smiling brightly.

“There. You are now the owner of star SAO11BG8Q, just to the left of Orion’s belt. You’ll get your certificate in the post in a week.”

“I’ll frame it up next to the kid’s baby pictures.” He also had plans to put the voucher somewhere safe, too. Maybe along with the wrapping paper with the lyrics on it. He’d have to start a scrapbook at this rate. 

“You’ll also get a HD photograph of the star, you could frame that along with it.”

“You can do me one better and show me it next time I’m at yours.”

Just when Roger thought Brian couldn’t smile more brighter, he proved him wrong. God he loved this ridiculous adorable man. “Gladly.”  
  
  


“Do you want your last present?”

They were back in the living room. The curtains were drawn due to it being late at night and they’d been watching a documentary on the television about MIchael Caine’s career from the sixties to now. Neither were his biggest fans, nor did they not like him, they just watched it to see his perspective on the 1960s, a time when they were growing up and coming into their own.

Roger had found it interesting, but as usual, he and Brian had disagreed on various points. 

“Hmm I might as well.”

Brian stood up and then hesitated before leaving. “This one might not be as impressive as the others.”

Roger scoffed. “I wasn’t expecting _any_ , so the fact that there are _seven_ is impressive enough!” 

Brian didn’t go very far, so it also must have been hidden in the unused downstairs airing cupboard. He came back into the living room, sat down and handed over a little hand sized box. It was bigger than a ring box, but not that much bigger. 

Roger opened it curiously, and was surprised to find two interlinked platinum rings, standing up on a little stand.

Roger looked at Brian with an open mouth. “What’s this?”

Brian took a hold of his hands. Was Brian… proposing? They always agreed they never would, that it wouldn’t be fair to divorce their wives when what they already had, had always had, worked so well.

“Infinity rings. Because even if we’ll never marry, I will always love you.”

_Well..._

“Are you saying your never ending love for me is my seventh birthday present?” Roger tried to joke, but it came out sounding quite earnest. 

“Err… Yes” Brian replied softly, “If you want to see it that way.”

Roger looked down at the rings and was just… speechless.

“Is… Are they alright?” Brian asked, as if he’d just handed him a burnt fish supper or something else not sterling silver jewellery signifying _never ending love._

Roger nodded and tried to find his voice. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking. “Yes, they’re beautiful. Thank you. I love you too.”

Brian nodded, “I know. You said it earlier, and, well, it made this a bit easier.”

“I really feel shit about your presents now. Signed Kubrick poster card, a star, and de facto wedding rings, not to mention the rest” Roger said.

“Don’t be silly, this isn’t a competition. I love what you got me. That blanket’s going on my bed as soon as it’s cool enough.”

Roger looked closely at the rings, holding it up to his face with one hand and holding his glasses with another. One of the bands had a purple line in the middle, and the other had a golden yellow band in the middle. Although it wasn’t engraved like the photo frame, the sentiment was clear. Brian loved Roger. As if he hadn't known that for the past thirty years.

He turned to Brian. “Is this about the heart attack?”

Brian took a few minutes to think through his answer, and then shrugged. “Yes and no. We are getting older, and that did give me a scare. A really big scare. But… I just never want you to have any doubts, if and when... _and_ I just wanted to spoil you rotten, to welcome you to your seventies.”

Roger huffed out a laugh and held the rings up so the colour bands in the middle would catch the light. “Consider me welcomed.” 

Mindful of Brian’s current health problems, he kept his next kiss light but no less meaningful, and cuddled down into Brian’s side. Brian, as was his custom, patted Roger’s head and ruffled his hand through his hair, like he did whenever they were in this position. 

“This has been a better birthday than the last few years.” Roger admitted in the quiet of the room. 

Brian kissed him right on the crown of his head. “Glad to hear it, love.”

When the next documentary, this time about the evolution of fish, didn’t seem to be going anywhere interesting, Roger looked at the clock and noticed the time. Well passed midnight. It was no wonder Brian’s murmured reactionary comments had quietened down over time.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Brian was still awake, but looking very sleepy. But then, Roger reminded himself, he had been up at an early time for him. “Coming to bed?”

Brian nodded straight away. “Yes.”

They sorted out the room together. They made sure the television and radio were off, all the doors and windows they had opened were definitely locked again. Roger checked the kitchen for any stray electronics that may have been left on at the wall, then put their most recent used cups in the dishwasher and turned it on. With the infinity rings, now back in the box, in his hand, he waited at the bottom of the staircase as Brian went into the nanny suite to double check the external door was locked. He came out with pyjamas and clothes for the next day and they both went up the stairs together.

After entering his bedroom, a bit chilly from being unused the whole day, he went over to the bureaux next to the white wooden dressing table and placed the rings on there. He wasn’t sure if he’d display them all the time, but for now, he wanted to keep them in sight.   
  


They took turns in the bathroom, and then both got changed in relative silence. Brian, back into blue tartan pyjama bottoms and this time a dark blue pyjama top with the words “Sleep Well” on the front, and Roger into fresh boxer shorts and t-shirt, an old sports sponsorship one that was set aside for sleeping in, and got into bed. The winter bedding had been swapped some months before for the light summer set, and now they just had a thin duvet to keep them warm in the unseasonably chilly room, but they’d both been in there enough times to know it warms up soon enough with shared body heat. 

After lying down in a comfortable position, on his side so he could look at Brian as they fell asleep, he noticed Brian shifting awkwardly in bed as he came to lie down beside him.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

Brian grimaced. “I’m sorry I’m not medically cleared… you know. For anything exciting.”

Roger shook his head in disbelief. “We're both in our seventies and you had a heart attack, Brian, I think I can forgive you. Besides, we’re both tired anyway.”

“Still..”

Roger nestled so close in to Brian’s neck that he was practically on top of him, though he was also very aware of not putting weight on to Brian’s chest. That hadn’t been discussed as a problem, he was just being precautious. “Hey. You got me my maracas back, bought me a star, gave me a lego prototype of my own drum kit, an engraved photo frame, infinity rings, a signed clockwork orange poster card, not to mention a Lush gift box that Sarina can never know about. Sex wouldn’t even compare to those things tonight.”

“Oh.” Brian said, “Well... I’m glad to hear that… I think.”

Roger gave him another kiss, at the corner of the jaw, before retreating back into his own space to give Brian his. “Be very glad.”

Brian laughed, almost silently to the point Roger felt it on the bed more than heard. “Goodnight, love, see you in the morning.”

“Yes you will.” He said, and then allowed his hand to be grasped in Brian’s. “Goodnight.”

“And goodnight to Freddie.” Brian said, nodding to the window, or rather to the statue that was partially visible through the window.

“Hmm goodnight Freddie.” 

He wasn’t sure which one of them went to sleep first, but Roger went to sleep grateful that he lived in a world where they could do so together.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from The Beatles's Happy Birthday. It's working title had been "And I'm older but a year".
> 
> Sadly as far as I know, Lego are not coming out with a Queen set. I made that up.


End file.
